


Don't Overdo It

by bevinkathryn



Series: Pole Dancing AU [5]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-06 01:04:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bevinkathryn/pseuds/bevinkathryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re such a baby,” Arthur taunted without any heat, smoothing Merlin’s hair off of his forehead.  “I had the exact same cold and I wasn’t nearly this bad.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Overdo It

**Author's Note:**

> The idea that just wouldn't quit (an especially apt one, considering my graceful tumble down the stairs this morning). This one doesn't quite focus on Merlin's actual dancing as much, more the aftereffects, I suppose. Thank everyone so much for the support so far in this series, it truly means a lot to me! I hate to say that I'm running out of ideas, but if anyone has any suggestions for future scenarios, I'm all ears! xx
> 
> Read on [my lj](http://silverwings2020.livejournal.com/5767.html).

“Merlin!  I brought dinner,” Arthur shouted as he let himself into Merlin’s flat.  He’d hung up his coat and kicked off his shoes before he realized that Merlin hadn’t responded.  In fact, the flat was silent.  Frowning, Arthur made his way into the sitting room.  Aithusa meowed at him from the sofa, but Merlin was nowhere to be found.  Arthur ducked back into the hall, and noticed the light pouring out of the kitchen.  
  
Merlin was sitting at the table, surrounded by piles of papers.  His glasses reflected the light of his laptop as he typed away, too absorbed to even notice Arthur until he rapped his knuckles against the doorframe.  Merlin jumped, eyes wide.  
  
“What—Arthur?  When did you get here?”  
  
“Just a minute ago,” Arthur answered, moving in to kiss his boyfriend hello.  “Didn’t you hear me?”  
  
“No, I was trying to finish this draft,” Merlin said, and then his eyes finally found the bag in Arthur’s hand.  “Is that food?”  
  
“Chinese from down the street,” Arthur told him as Merlin dove for it, breathing in the scent and letting out a moan.  
  
“Christ, I love you.  Grab me a fork before I eat it all in one go.”  
  
Arthur did, and Merlin barely paused to open his container before he started in on it.  Arthur watched him shovel forkful after forkful into his mouth, half disgusted, half fascinated.  Merlin looked like he hadn’t eaten in days, and there were even the beginnings of shadows beneath his eyes.  
  
“Hungry?”  
  
“Starving,” Merlin groaned around a mouthful of noodles.  “I haven’t eaten all day.  Too busy.”  
  
“I can see that.  What’s all this for, anyway?”  
  
“Just notes for my articles.  I’ve been putting them off for the competition and now I’m paying the price.”  Merlin swallowed, his hunger apparently satisfied enough for the moment.  “My editor’s been on my arse about it.”  
  
“You’re not in trouble, are you?” Arthur frowned.  For the past month or so, Merlin had been almost entirely focused on perfecting his competition routine for the biggest competition of his career the weekend before.  He’d dominated it, of course, but in the meantime he’d practically worried himself to death.  Arthur knew that Merlin’s editor on the  _Camelot Times_ was some sort of family friend and was very fond of Merlin, but even Gaius didn’t have infinite patience.  He’d never seen Merlin writing so many articles in the past week in all the months they’d known each other.  
  
“No, I should be fine,” Merlin assured him.  “I’ll probably just be shunted to all the stories no one wants for a while.”  
  
Arthur grinned, and promptly sneezed.  Merlin raised his eyebrows.  “Bless you.”  
  
“Thanks.  Did Gaius say—“ Arthur began, but was interrupted by another sneeze before he could finish.  Merlin’s brows puckered.  
  
“Are you alright?” he asked, but Arthur just waved a hand.  
  
“Fine.  I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”  
  
“Are you getting sick?” Merlin asked, immediately sliding into fussy mode.  He reached over to feel Arthur’s forehead, ignoring Arthur’s protests.  
  
“Leave it—Merlin, honestly it’s just a cold.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Merlin pressed, still frowning as he slid back into his seat.  
  
Arthur nodded.  “It’s fine.  Just a few sneezes and a bit of a headache.  I’ll be fine.”  
  
Merlin made a face, but he turned back to his dinner so Arthur figured he was mostly in the clear.  By the time they’d finished, though, he’d sneezed four more times, and Merlin was looking at him with a small frown again.  
  
“Why don’t you go lie down for a while?” he suggested after Arthur’d sneezed for a seventh time.  Arthur contemplated protesting, but decided against it.  His headache definitely hadn’t improved with all the sneezing, and a bed sounded fantastic right about now.  
  
“Yeah, alright,” he agreed.  Merlin smiled at him.  
  
“Good.  You go ahead, I’ll be in in a minute.”  
  
Arthur went, stripping down to his boxers and climbing into Merlin’s bed.  He wasn’t sure how long he dozed for, but after a while he felt the mattress dip slightly, and something warm pressed against his back.  He hummed and turned his head to smile lazily at Merlin.  
  
“What took you so long?”  
  
“Wanted to finish my article first.  No more distractions,” Merlin answered, snuggling in even closer.  Arthur smiled again and moved in to kiss him, but Merlin ducked out of the way.  “Whoa, no kissing.  I’m here to take care of you, not to get sick myself.”  
  
“We’re already breathing all over each other, what difference will a kiss make?” Arthur pointed out.  “’sides, it’s just a cold.”  
  
Merlin made a skeptical noise, but allowed it when Arthur leaned in again and pressed their lips together.  
  
“There.  Satisfied?” he said when they parted.  Arthur smirked.  
  
“Not even remotely.”  
  
“Too bad.  Save it for when you’re not all snotty and gross,” Merlin replied, bundling them both in for the night and ignoring Arthur’s protest.

\---

  
Just as he’d predicted, Arthur’s cold was practically gone in the morning.  By that afternoon even the lingering stuffiness had disappeared.  Merlin was holed up in his office all evening, so Arthur settled in at his own flat to celebrate his cleared nasal passages in the quiet.  
  
 _Still at the office?_ he texted Merlin at around eight.  It took several minutes before his phone lit up with a reply.  
  
 _unfortunately. would kill for a sandwich right now._  
  
  
 _Haven’t you eaten?_ Arthur texted back with a frown.  
  
 _a bit. not been hungry all day. too busy anyway._  
  
  
 _Don’t overdo it._  
  
 _yes, mum_ , Merlin replied cheekily.  Arthur rolled his eyes.  
  
 _I mean it._  
  
  
They texted for a while longer, until Arthur decided to call it a night.  
  
 _I’m for bed. Try to actually sleep tonight?_  he texted when he was settled in bed.  
  
 _i promise. goodnight x_

\---

  
The next day, he was wrapping up his work when Gwen let herself into his office.  
  
“Heading out?”  
  
“Just about, unless you have something for me?” Arthur replied, one arm already in his jacket.  
  
“Oh, no.  I was just wondering if you and Merlin had plans tonight?  Elyan’s demanding a pub night,” Gwen said, and Arthur laughed.  
  
“Well if he insists.  I’ll ask Merlin.  Rising Sun, as usual?”  
  
“Of course.  See you later, then.”  
  
Arthur didn’t get a chance to call Merlin until he’d escaped the office for the carpark.  He tucked the phone against his shoulder as he dug around for his keys.  
  
“Hello?” Merlin’s voice finally came through, sounding scratchy and exhausted.  
  
Arthur frowned.  “Hi.  Are you alright?”  
  
“Yeah.  Just tired.  I’ve been out for a story all afternoon and I only got about four hours of sleep last night.”  
  
“Where’d Gaius send you?” Arthur demanded.  He heard Merlin’s bone-weary sigh.  
  
“A natural healing fair.  I spent all day being reprimanded for every single medicine I’ve ever taken and having my entire outfit judged for not being made out of natural fibres.”  
  
Arthur made a sympathetic sound.  Merlin hadn’t been lying when he’d said Gaius would hand him the bad assignments.   
  
“Are you home yet?”  
  
“Nearly.”  
  
“I’ll be there in a bit, alright?  Have a nap and I’ll make something for dinner,” Arthur said firmly, pub already forgotten.  Merlin yawned hugely.  
  
“A’right.  See you in a bit.”  
  
They hung up, and after sending a quick text to Gwen Arthur started his car and drove off.  He stopped by his flat first to change, and then at the store for food, taking his time so by the time he pulled up to Merlin’s building it’d been over an hour since he’d called Merlin.  Merlin’s flat was silent again when Arthur let himself in.  He tiptoed down the hall to peer into the bedroom, where a Merlin-shaped figure was huddled under the duvet.  Arthur approached quietly, gently shaking Merlin awake.  
  
“Art’ur?”  
  
“Hey,” he said with a fond smile as Merlin slowly blinked up at him, red-eyed.  “You hungry?”  
  
Merlin blinked again, frowning as if he had to think about it.  “Yeah,” he decided eventually.  
  
“Alright.  I’ll put something on.  You can go back to sleep if you want.”  
  
Merlin made a gurgling sort of sigh in response, so Arthur left him to it.  No one would ever accuse Arthur of being a particularly good cook, but he’d managed to learn a few things in his time.  Soup was one of them.  He’d barely even started, though, before he heard the sound of bare feet on linoleum, and a pair of arms snaked around his waist.  
  
“I thought you were going to sleep,” he said with a glance over his shoulder at Merlin.  Merlin shrugged.  
  
“I changed my mind.  Don’t wanna miss watching you actually cook something besides breakfast.”  
Arthur snorted, and moved in to nuzzle Merlin’s temple, but something else made him pause.  Merlin was warm, far warmer than the duvet should have made him.  And when he pulled away, Arthur saw a flush on Merlin’s cheeks, and the shadows he’d noticed a few days earlier stark under his eyes.  
  
“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked.  “You look like hell.  You really don’t have to force yourself to stay awake for me.”  
  
“I told you I’m fine.  Still a little tired, is all.  I’ll sleep tonight.”  
  
Arthur wasn’t convinced, but he decided to let it slide for now.  “Well then, bugger off if you’re just going to stand there.  I don’t want you tripping and dumping scalding water on yourself, or something.”  
  
“Prat,” Merlin said, predictably, and then, “I’ll be in the spare room if you need me.”  
  
Arthur waved him on, and suddenly he was alone again.  He heard the music click on in the other room as he worked on dinner, humming along to the songs he knew.  When the soup was ready, he set it to simmer and went to fetch Merlin.  
  
When he walked in, [Merlin](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cl-zCN3SCeo) was just coming out o f a move, hanging upside down by his leg around byt pole and spinning.  Arthur knew better than to distract him, so he watched as Merlin bent and lifted, letting himself fall upside-down into a horizontal position, spreading his legs into a wide split as he went.  He paused there, and then swung down, opening his legs to brace himself on the floor.  
  
He’d obviously miscalculated, though, because suddenly there was a loud  _thwack!_ as his thighs collided with the metal, and Merlin fell to land on his ass.  
  
“Shit, Merlin,” Arthur cursed, running forward to where Merlin was still lying on the ground, “are you alright?”  
  
“Ow,” Merlin moaned, looking more confused than anything as he tried to push himself into a sitting position, but Arthur put a hand on his shoulder before he could.  
  
“No, don’t move, you might’ve hurt something.”  
  
“Yeah.  My arse,” Merlin groaned, trying to ignore Arthur’s grip and sit up anyway.  Arthur’s grip was strong, though, and Merlin gave up after a second.  “Arthur.”  
  
“What if you have a concussion?” Arthur continued, leaning in to peer into Merlin’s eyes.  
  
“I didn’t even hit my head, you clotpole.”  
  
“Are you sure?  Your eyes are all glassy.”  Gingerly, Arthur reached out to cup Merlin’s cheeks in his hands, and his eyes widened at how warm he was.  “Jesus, Merlin, you’re burning up.  I think you might’ve caught my cold.”  
  
“No shit,” Merlin bitched, batting Arthur’s hands away to finally sit up.  He groaned as the movement made his head spin.  “Christ.”  
  
“You should lie down.  Come on, I’ll help you to bed.”  
  
Slowly, Arthur eased Merlin to his feet, steadying him when he swayed.  They made their way into the master bedroom just as slowly, and Arthur helped Merlin crawl back under the covers.  
  
“You’re sure you don’t have a concussion?” he asked, worried gaze on Merlin’s still glassy eyes.  Merlin sighed at him.  
  
“Positive.  I have taken a fall before, you know.  You’ve even seen me do it.”  
  
That was true, but Merlin wasn’t usually woozy with sickness when he was dancing.  
  
“Doesn’t make you invincible.  I told you not to overdo it,” Arthur said, and swooped down to kiss Merlin’s forehead.  “Think you can handle some soup?”  
  
“Please?” Merlin replied, looking so sweet with his wide eyes and flushed cheeks that Arthur had to kiss him again.  
  
“Back in a second.”  
  
In the kitchen, he dished out two bowls of soup, putting the rest away quickly and grabbing a serving dish to use as a tray.  Aithusa had come out of hiding when he returned to the bedroom and was standing guard at Merlin’s feet.  Merlin himself accepted his makeshift tray when Arthur handed it to him, leaving Arthur to crawl in carefully beside him.  
  
They ate mostly in silence, occasionally interrupted by a sneeze from Merlin.  Arthur finished his bowl fairly quickly, but Merlin went much slower than usual, and gave up entirely before he’d even finished half of his.  
  
“Come here,  _Mer_ lin,” Arthur ordered once he’d wolfed down the rest of Merlin’s soup and abandoned the bowls on the nightstand to deal with later.  Merlin immediately snuggled up against his side with a pathetic sniffle.  “You’re such a baby,” Arthur taunted without any heat, smoothing Merlin’s hair off of his forehead.  “I had the exact same cold and I wasn’t nearly this bad.”  
  
“It’s obviously mutated into some evil death cold by now,” Merlin muttered into Arthur’s chest.  Arthur chuckled.  
  
“Or you have the immune system of a gnat.  We need to fatten you up.”  
  
“Shut up,” Merlin mumbled, already half-asleep.  Arthur continued to pet him absently.

\---

  
It turned out that a sick Merlin was halfway between adorable and the kind of patient that nurses used as cautionary tales.  
  
He spent most of the day sitting on the sofa bundled under so many blankets that only his face was visible.  Every time Arthur tried to stand and do something Merlin would grumble until Arthur gave up and allowed Merlin to snuggle back up against him.  
  
“I’m  _dying_ ,” Merlin moaned for perhaps the hundredth time, lolling his head back.  “I am going to die.”  
  
“You’re not going to die,” Arthur replied, for the hundredth time, not even taking his eyes off of the telly.  Merlin punched him weakly.  
  
“Shut up.  I am.  I’m going to die and you’re not allowed at my funeral because you’re a horrible boyfriend.”  
  
“Why’s that, Merlin?”  
  
“Because you didn’t believe me when I said I was dying.”  
  
“Right.  Noted.  I’ll make sure Guinevere puts that in her eulogy.”  
  
“Arse,” Merlin mumbled, and tugged Arthur’s arm even tighter around him.  
  
They had this conversation another four times before Merlin managed to fall asleep for longer than a few minutes, and Arthur eased out from under him to grab his mobile and his laptop.  Merlin slept on.  Eventually, after Arthur had wrapped up his phone call and fired off an email, Merlin began to stir, and then he woke up fully with a giant sneeze.  Arthur grinned at him.  
  
“Feeling any better?” he asked, closing the lid of his laptop and sliding it into its case.  Merlin sniffled at him from the sofa.  
  
“No.”  He rubbed blearily at his eyes.  “What time is it?”  
  
“Half-five.”  
  
“Shit, Gaius is gonna kill me,” Merlin groaned, starting to kick his way out of his blanket cocoon.  “I haven’t even started that article.  Where did I put my notes?”  
  
“Don’t worry about it.  I called Lance,” Arthur said, moving forward to put a stilling hand on Merlin’s shoulder.  “He said he’ll write it for you.”  
  
“What?  No, he’s shouldn’t have to—“  
  
“Merlin, he said it was fine,” Arthur interrupted firmly.  “I’ve already emailed him your notes from the faire.  You need to rest.”  
  
“I’ll have plenty of time if I don’t write that article and Gaius fires me,” Merlin retorted, but he wasn’t struggling against Arthur’s hold anymore, so Arthur figured he was winning.  
  
“Honestly Merlin, Gaius just wants it to get written.  I doubt he gives a rat’s arse about who actually does it.  Besides, you know as well as I do it’s going to get shoved into whatever spare space he has, because no one actually wants to read about what diseases leeches can cure.”  
  
Merlin said nothing, so Arthur released him in order to slide back into his spot on the sofa.  He opened his arms, and Merlin only hesitated for a moment before climbing into them.  
  
“Thank you,” he said quietly, enveloping both of them in his blankets.  Arthur kissed him on the forehead.  
  
“You’re welcome.  Just hurry up and get better, alright?  I have plans for you.”  
  
“Plans, huh?” Merlin sniffed, lifting his head to raise his eyebrow at Arthur.  And Arthur, ignoring the stuffy nose and the runny eyes and the general sickness, leaned in and gave Merlin a proper kiss, swiping his tongue across Merlin’s chapped bottom lip before pulling back and meeting Merlin’s smile.  
  
“Now that’s what I call incentive.”


End file.
